J.A McManus Poems
The little gods, spitting curses like unholy prayers
Hatred burning in their eyes, consuming like fire
Their hands forever stained with innocent blood.
They wander through the dark, abandoned streets
Their faces cloaked from the misery they spread
The little gods, spitting curses like unholy prayers.
You almost feel sorry for the poor little bastards
Afraid of whatever they don’t or can’t understand
Hatred burning in their eyes, consuming like fire.
So vainly and cheaply they love, then toss it aside
Kicking at the bars of society like babies in a ...
Your clothes, your cars, even your home
We judge success on the things we own
So corrupted and so confused
Young minds getting utterly abused.
Can you not see that we’re all slaves
Working ourselves into early graves?
Working to buy things we don’t need
Caught in the shadow of our own greed.